


Weak Kneed Partings

by DolphinNeymar



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: I had to i stg, M/M, Maylor - Freeform, Voice Kink, after hours studio sex, this is the first smut ive ever written kill me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 01:05:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16944081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DolphinNeymar/pseuds/DolphinNeymar
Summary: Brian has a thing for Roger's voice, especially when they are recording Drowse for A Day at the Races. Roger eventually notices.





	Weak Kneed Partings

Brian tried desperately to pay attention to anything else as Roger recorded his leading vocals. He tried to focus on the slow sliding notes of the guitar in the song, or on Freddie whose hand was currently hovering above the stop button on the tape recorder. He just wanted it to stop, the slow, tantalizing drawl of Rogers voice as he sang those breathy notes into the microphone. Every high sultry note burned in the pit of his stomach, and Brian shifted his guitar in order to hide his shaky arousal. Then, from the recording booth, Roger shoots him a glance that is all heavy-lidded exhaustion, and Brian immediately bolts up to leave the room. 

Freddie shouts after him what sounds like “get me a soda on the way back would you dear?”, but Brian dismisses him and heads straight to the bathroom, propping the Red Special against the couch on the way out. He locks the door to the bathroom behind him and buries his head in his hands, just praying for the heat to go away. He absolutely refused to jerk off in the production studio bathroom, so he just resolved to sit there, trying to think of something unappealing. He heard a knock on the door, startling him just slightly. 

“You okay in there Bri? Are you feeling sick?” Asks Roger through the door, hesitantly. Brian breaths in deep and counts the seconds it takes him to breathe out. He opens the door, looking fairly composed. Roger is propped against the door with one arm, his jacket open to reveal his chest just slightly. Brian coughs a bit at Roger’s disheveled appearance.

“Yeah, I’m doing quite good actually. You on the other hand look quite tired.” Roger smirks, nodding his head. “That’s what I get for playing too much today” He complains. “And doing lead vocals.” 

“Roger! Brian! We are headed home for the day. You two should probably rest too, you look… tired.” Freddie announced, leaning around the corner to the other room. Roger glanced at Freddie with amusement. “I’ll stay for a while, need to work on my vocals before we finalize the track.” He shrugs.  
“Well I am going home to sleep.” Said John, hefting his bass’s case strap over his right shoulder. Roger turns to Brian and looks at him with pleading eyes. “And you Brian? Will you stay with me for just another hour or so?” 

Brian should say no, but with the deep and drowsy eyes of Roger Taylor staring into him, he couldn’t have refused.  
“Sure, I could use a bit more practice as well to be honest.” Brian tried hard not to kick himself. 

John and Freddie left them soon after grabbing some drinks from the small cooler they had brought to the studio. The drummer looked at him, sauntering back into the booth, headphones on over his ruffled blond hair. He got settled and gave Brian the signal to start the recording. He crooned into the mic, the softest and sweetest noises Brian had ever heard. 

“It’s a sad-eyed goodbye, yesterday’s moments, I remember”

Brian crouched forward in his chair, warmth creeping up his neck to his face. Roger rasped into the microphone, effortlessly high notes that filled the guitarist with butterflies. Every note was perfect, and Roger opened his eyes to stare forward at him in a breathy, somnolent daze.  
“It's the bleak street, week kneed partings I recall” 

There was nothing else to focus on except Roger, and his verse soon came to a close, Brian almost forgetting to hit stop. Roger emerged with excitement from behind the glass. 

“Bri! What did you think of that? I tried to go a bit higher this time… oh are you okay? You look a little red…” Brian was speechless, his breath slow but hard, and his face was flushed hot. He managed to get out a few words, trying to lessen his friend’s concern.

“Yeah.. I’m alright. You can go again if you want..” Brian just wanted the attention off of him however possible. The blonde cocked an eyebrow, sensing the bullshit in that statement. 

“No, Brian you need to lay down. Here let me help you up.” Roger grabbed the guitarist’s hand and pulled, and Brian had already decided he wasn’t going anywhere, but the strong yank from Roger took him off guard. Roger steadied him at the hips and looked up, their bodies only inches from each other. Roger’s tired eyes looked into him then, and he too flushed red, but not with embarrassment.

“Holy shit Bri, you shouldn’t’ve agreed to stay after if you thought you were somehow gonna hide this.” The drummers whispered realization sent shivers through Brian and he brought his face down close to Roger’s, slightly unsure. Roger brought his hands up to Brian’s chest and leaned in slowly, pressing his lips against the guitarist’s. The kiss was slow and wet, hot breaths being exchanged between them, Roger softly biting at Brian’s lips each time they pulled apart. Roger led Brian to the couch, straddling his lap and pressing another kiss to his lips. 

Brian slips his hands under Roger’s jacket, whispering to him. “Is this okay?”, to which the younger man nods. Brian lets the jacket drop to the floor and starts pressing light kisses to Roger’s neck. That’s when Rog moans, high and breathy, and Brian shudders, biting down on the drummer’s shoulder. 

Roger huffs into his ear with a combination of moans and his name, and Brian rakes his nails down Roger’s sides. Every light moan and squeal coming from Rogers lips was going straight to Brian’s dick, and Roger knew it. Brian finally trailed his hands down, unbuttoning Roger’s jeans and slipping his hands down the front, stroking teasingly through his boxers. Brian finally slid the pants and underwear off of Roger, and began a steady rhythm, his calloused hands a relief on the blonde’s aching cock. Roger’s rasping whines filled the studio as he came closer to the edge. His body tightened under Brian’s hands and he came hard, borderline screaming into Brian’s ear. Brian came too then, a hot whispered moan of Roger’s name under his breath as he pressed himself against the drummer in desperation. 

They laid on the couch for a while, Roger breathing heavy against Brian’s chest while he came down from the high.  
“Well.” Roger said softly, “Thank god you stayed up with me. Let’s go home and get some rest.” Roger wiped off his belly with a paper towel and tossed it in the trash, taking Brian’s hand and leading him to his car. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning John and Freddie arrived in the studio first, confused as to why Brian’s car was still in the lot. They were even more confused when Brian arrived in Roger’s Alfa Romeo. At least John was anyway, but Freddie wore an all-knowing smirk as he turned to John, and with a cocky tone, said “Deacy, honey, you owe me a twenty.”  
Then it dawned on John.  
“God Dammit.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first smut story i've e v e r written, so keep that in mind lol. It was pretty fun, maybe ill do it again. Hit me up on tumblr at @roger-maylor if you have suggestions or just wanna say hi!


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